and _The Seven Words_, the last especially being, as I have already
said, in his most splendid manner. Haydn did not stereotype the
symphony, because it never was at any time stereotyped; but he made
endless experiments in the search for a general profound principle which
underlies all music composed since his time. Mozart helped to make his
own meaning clear to him, divined what he was groping after, and himself
seized it and made glorious use of it, and Haydn profited, so that we
have his master-works. But the experiments possess for us little more
than the interest of experiments. Yet they were new and inspiring at the
time. Had he continued to write in the pre-1761 manner, he would never
have by 1790 won his world-wide fame, and made London seek him and so
draw from him his finest work.

After, say, 1785, the old contrapuntal smack has gone out of his
writing, and his form has grown definite. Often, indeed, his outlines
are much too hard, as was natural at a time when he was with all his
might trying to take his principles in a firm grip. If we take a typical
symphony of this time, we find, first the adagio introduction. This
feature, as we all know, was turned to noble use by Beethoven, notably
in the seventh symphony; but it is not an essential. Mozart scarcely
used it, and even with Haydn I fancy the Prince must have liked it, or
we should not find it so often. The allegro is in what the text-books
call the "accepted" form, first and second subjects--often not clearly
differentiated, but more and more so as time passed--"working-out"
section and recapitulation with or without coda. Here we have complete
unity, and as much variety as the composer wanted. With all the richness
and variety, the intellectual structure is so firm and distinctly marked
that the mind grasps the whole thing at once. Then comes the slow
movement, sometimes with two distinct themes, sometimes with only one,
varied at each repetition, and with episodes composed of fresh matter